On passing Tryvan

imageThe old man slept in the clouds

Nose turned to find the scent of heaven

Beyond the reach of my footsteps.

Spurned, I sped past, intent

On the same search by a different route.

Not that the raw simplicity,

The bare rock and the wind,

The strain of muscle and sinew,

The idea of completion,

Did not tug at me.

But I sped past, intent

On finding the still voice

In the interplay

Of melodic lines, rooted

In human endeavour

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2 thoughts on “On passing Tryvan

  1. You are very kind and so much better at giving feedback than I am! I love this mountain and passed it on the way to a string quartet course in May. (4 days of Schumann!) Still working on my Isle of the Dead!

    Like

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